Dragon Knight's Medallion (31 page)

Smacking his hand away, she opened her eyes and gritted her teeth as she made her way over to her father. “Go,” she snapped.

Liam immediately took off running down the hill toward the abbey.

“
Please, Dad
, open your eyes for me,” she pleaded, stroking the hair from his face. Looking down she noticed the blood continued to flow but not as much as before. Tearing more fabric from her gown, she placed it against his wound.

He groaned instantly, his face ashen. His eyes fluttered open, and he gave Aileen a weak smile. “Home?” he whispered.

How could she possibly tell him this was not her home? “Yes, Dad, you’re home. I need you to stay with me.” She swallowed, watching his features twist in agony.

“Aye, daughter. What shall...we talk about? How I met your mother?”

“Yes. Tell me the story again,” she said softly.

“Well, your mother was a bonny lass when my eyes...” Her dad wheezed, choking now on blood.

“Here, let me wipe your mouth.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Realizing her father was near death, Aileen cradled his head in her lap.

“Have I told you how much I love you for the sacrifice you made? You gave up everything for her.”

He opened his eyes, smiling up at her. “
For love
.” His eyes gave a far off look, remembering.

She only nodded, letting her tears drop onto his face. “Hold on, Dad. Liam is bringing help, and then when you are better, you can tell me more stories of Mom.”

With great effort, he brought his hand up to Aileen’s face. “Find a way to go back...to Stephen.” He coughed again.

“We can talk about that later. Besides, I thought you didn’t like him.” She glanced down again. This time her legs were stained with her father’s life blood.
Hurry, Liam
!

“Aileen”—his voice barely a whisper—“I gi...
give
my blessing.”

Fear gripped her heart. “Shhh, Dad. It’s my turn to talk about how I first met Stephen.” She trembled as she put her arm around him. “He was in pain and wouldn’t let me touch him, thinking I was a fae healer. Imagine, me not knowing I was part fae.” She glanced down and noticed his eyes were closed. “Dad, are you
listening
?”

Then the smell of honeysuckle floated past Aileen.

“
Dad
?” she choked out, instantly realizing her father was no longer breathing.

Her mother had come for him.

“
Nooo
!” she screamed. “You can’t leave me!” Great sobs racked her body as she rocked back and forth holding his lifeless body.

****

When Liam approached, he dropped down to the ground on his knees, staring in disbelief.

The great Fenian Warrior, Aidan Kerrigan, was dead.

Aileen’s grief tore at him. He had failed not only his brother, but her, too. Reaching out, he placed a hand on hers. “I’m sorry,” he uttered softly.

Eyes that blazed with fury, glared up at him. Snatching her hand back from his, she hissed, “This is all
your
fault. He would still be alive if you had not brought him back through the veil.”

Liam held his tongue. She was partially correct. However, now was not the time to tell her.

“Let us take him down off the hill,” he said.

“Don’t touch him,” she shrieked. “You are not worthy.”

Clenching his jaw, he only nodded. Then turning to two men, Liam motioned for them to take Aidan.

Watching as they gently lifted her father from her lap, he spoke quietly to the men, instructing them to take the body to Balleycove. He would see to all the arrangements. Glancing back at Aileen, she kept staring at her hands, now covered in blood.

When Liam went to reach for her, she scooted away. Pushing herself off the ground, she knotted her fists at her sides. “Take me back,” she demanded.

Liam frowned. “Back? To Stephen?”

“Yes!”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you
won’t
? He needs our help. We can’t just leave him.” She pounded her fist against her chest. “My
life
is back with him, and I won’t let him die!”

Liam moved closer to her. “Aileen, if I could, I would send you back. But I
can’t
.”

She slapped Liam hard across the face.

Staring at her, he knew his eyes had shifted colors by her indrawn breath. Taking a step back, he started down the hill.

“
Why
?” she asked as tears streamed down her face.

Liam half turned toward her, his jaw clenched. “The truth? Because the moment we stepped back through the veil, the fae stripped me of all my powers.” Spreading out his hands wide, he looked fully at her. “I am now earthbound. The same as your father.”

Walking over to him, she shook her head sadly. “You are
nothing
like my father.”

****

End this
. It was his only thought as Stephen tried in vain to block out the pain. Each time he tried to fight back, the man would beat him back to the ground. Trying to swipe the blood from his eyes, he tried to roll from the next blow.

He was going to die.

In truth, it did not matter anymore. His soul died the moment Aileen passed through the veil. All that was left was his body.

Just take a sword through my heart, for it is already gone
.

Stephen closed his eyes and waited for the final strike. Dirt and blood filled his mouth, and he dug his hands into the ground. His mind drifted, letting the memories of Aileen flood his senses. He could not tell if it was blood or tears that streaked his face. In his last conscious moment, Stephen thanked the fae for sending him Aileen.

Then his world went black.

Chapter Forty-One

“A human heart can stand only so much pain, but a fae heart can only hold a drop.”

The voices called out to him, but he kept on moving. He did not want to return. There was nothing there, and this other place beckoned to him with its dazzling lights and sounds. Hearing the chime of bells, he smiled. Then again, the other voice yelled at him. It was familiar, but he could not summon up whom it belonged to. Half-turning, he tried to remember.

The warmth of the lights lured him and turning to go through, he was instantly thrown into a cold, dark abyss.

“Wake, by God, Stephen! Do ye hear me!” roared Duncan, dousing him with a bucket of water.

Sputtering and choking on the water, Stephen groaned, heaving to the side.

Another bucket of water assaulted him, and Stephen waved his hand weakly at him. “Enough,” he coughed hoarsely.

“By the Gods, I thought ye dead, brother,” rasped Duncan, bending over him.

“Almost,” Stephen whispered.

A great cry burst forth, and Duncan went to reach for his sword, only to find it some distance away in the back of Manus.

Lachlan was charging forth, sword extended with a crazed look on his face.

Fearing for his brother’s safety, Duncan stood directly over Stephen ready to defend him to the death with only his bare hands.

Lachlan never had a chance. The blow to his head knocked him to the ground. A burning torch had felled him, splinters of the wood burning into the side of his face.

“What the bloody hell? Can someone account for this battle?” roared the man, eyes blazing with anger.

Duncan’s mouth dropped open. Scotland’s king stood before them. He knelt. “Greetings, Sire.”

Stephen tried to raise his head, one eye already swollen shut. “
King William
?” he gasped.

“Who are ye and explain this madness?” His tone had an edge of steel.

“Sire, I am Duncan MacKay, and this is my brother, Stephen, who requires...”

King William held up his hand to silence Duncan. “For the love of God, Stephen?” He brushed past Duncan and stooped down next to Stephen.

“Bring me the healer,” he bellowed.

“Sire…”

“Do not try to speak.” Looking over his shoulder, he roared, “Healer!”

“Coming, Sire.” A short, stout man pushed through the others, gasping for breath. “There are many wounded.”

The king stood, directing his other men to bring forth a litter. Waving a hand to motion Duncan toward him, he asked, “Before ye tell what has befallen, who is this devil?”

Duncan glanced at Lachlan, afraid he would somehow disappear again. “This is the druid, Lachlan.”

His eyes narrowed. “A druid burning his own people? For what reason would this serve?”

“His cause has been unclear until recently.” Duncan paused, waiting. How much could he divulge to his king?

“Continue,” demanded King William.

“He claimed to be obeying orders from Bishop Augustus. Stephen told me Rome sent the bishop and his men to rid Arbroath of the heathens. The villagers feared for their lives, and fled the town. Lachlan pursued them with his men.”

King William ran a hand through his thick beard in thought. “Has this druid found the one God? What is his involvement with this bishop?”

“Nae. His intent was to use the bishop and his guards to further his own shrewd plans.”

“Pray tell me.”

Duncan reached down and retrieved Stephen’s relic. Wiping the mud from it, he rubbed his thumb over the stone. Raising his head, he said, “To take the Dragon Knight relics to seize their power.”

“By the rood! Monsters, all of them! Whoever this bishop is, I ken he has no orders from Rome. They are his alone, and I vow to send him back for the Pope to deal with his treachery.” King William barked out orders to take Lachlan into custody, regardless of his injury.

“Sire, this druid has become verra powerful. I would suggest…” Duncan hesitated.

“Do not fear, he will not live much longer,” the king sneered.

William glanced at the stone in Duncan’s hand. “So the Dragon Knights have returned?”

“Aye,” interjected Stephen. “In truth, we serve ye, Sire, too.” He wheezed, spitting out blood.

King William roared with laughter. “Stephen, ye should have become a counselor.” Taking a more serious tone, he added, “I could use ye at Arbroath Abbey to help rebuild.”

Duncan held his breath, fearing he would lose his brother again.

Shaking his head slowly, Stephen winced from the pain. “Nae. Duncan and I must locate our other two brothers and restore Urquhart.” Coughing again, he fought to find his breath. “It would be a boon, Sire.”

“Agreed,” replied the king.

“Please sir, ye must remain still,” demanded the healer, attempting to cleanse Stephen’s wounds.

Duncan’s chest swelled. Striding over to the water, he dipped the stone into the water, removing the last traces of mud. Standing, he went and placed it over his brother’s head. Gently placing his hand on his shoulder, he whispered, “It is good to have ye back.”

Keeping his eyes closed, Stephen grunted.

Brother Osgar shuffled forward. “Sweet Brigid,” he muttered when he saw Stephen. Noticing the king, he bowed his head. “Sire, it is good ye have found us.”

“Indeed. Brother Osgar, let us convene elsewhere. Where are the others?”

“The women and children are safe beyond the trees. They are tending to the injured.”

“Good,” he said solemnly.

Before leaving, King William turned and looked at Stephen. “There is a belief among the druids and monks that both can work together. For this reason, I set the founding stone for Arbroath Abbey in a pagan village, so the two would become one—as our
one
God. This”—he waved his hand about—“was not my intention. I give ye my word, I will set this right.”

The king then held out his arm, and Duncan understanding his meaning, grasped his forearm. “See that your brother mends, Duncan. When all the Dragon Knights return to Urquhart, I will pay a visit.”

Duncan smiled. “On that day, we will be honored to welcome our king.”

Giving him a quick nod, the king motioned for Osgar and his men, departing for the trees.

“Where do ye want us to take him?” asked the healer.

“With the others, and then we will proceed into the main village at dawn. The less we move him, the better.”

Duncan watched as they carefully placed Stephen on the litter, concerned not for his physical wounds, for those would heal in time. However, the ones which could not be seen would never heal.

Quickly scanning the ground, he spotted the one last item he needed to recover before departing. Rolling over the dead body of Manus, he retrieved his sword. Taking it to the water, he washed off the blood. When the last remnants of the battle had been removed, Duncan said a silent plea to the fae to help heal his brother.

****

The new dawn brought renewed energy to everyone. For the first time in days, laughter rang out and children played. Many had been injured, but for the most part, all was well. Duncan’s concern was for Stephen. He sustained major injuries, and he dreaded his brother would never be the same.

King William had departed before dawn, taking Lachlan with him. The druid had awoken, screaming foul curses at them until the king ordered him gagged. Again, Duncan warned the king this man was capable of dark magic and to be on guard. Heeding Duncan’s warning, he placed a crucifix around the druid’s neck as if to would ward off the evil. If it were only that simple, he thought.

The druids returned during the early hours before dawn. However, on hearing the news regarding Lachlan they were hesitant to rejoice. They reckoned this would not be the last they heard of Lachlan. His power may have been diminished with their help, yet they feared he could regain it at anytime.

Ian skidded to a halt before Duncan. “It is good to have ye here for Sir Stephen. I ken he will need ye for the rest of his quest.”

He grimaced. “His quest is over, Ian.”

Ian tilted his head to the side, frowning. “Just because ye cannot see the way does not mean the path is closed.”

Duncan reeled back unable to comprehend the lad’s words. Ian gave him a wide smile and ran off.

“I see ye have met the next Master Druid,” stated Cathal, moving toward Duncan.

Duncan rubbed a hand over his weary face. “Truth?”

“Aye. Did ye ken his mother is my niece?”

“Stephen told me. So why am I not surprised the lad is meant for greatness.” Duncan smirked. Though he may be kin to Cathal, he believed young Ian would go beyond his great-uncle in wisdom and power.